Page:Paine--J Archibauld McKaney collector of whiskers.djvu/21



in a bracing autumn afternoon I was playing golf on the links which adjoin my estate. I was alone save for the stimulating companionship of Colonel Bogey. While driving for the home green I pulled my shot so disastrously that the ball flew off at a sickening tangent and vanished in a dense woodland as if the devil were after it. Struggling through the underbrush with somewhat peevish comment, I headed for the tree against which the ball had struck. It must have caromed wide and far, for the search was bootless. [3